Well folks, this is the home stretch. Christmas is headed towards that glorious week before New Year’s, where everyone except shoppers who wish to bring their children with them to vex me and give me a headache are relaxing, eating turkey sandwiches, and watching sports. May you all enjoy something good next week; maybe some depressing foreign films? Or you could be like Francois and I, and make it a Christmas tradition to watch The Room. Something decidedly not Christmassy. I guess I’m one of those people who spends so much of her brain on Christmas for the second six months of the year that, by the time it gets here I am ready for daffodils and tulips. No more snow, please. Had enough. What I am really ready for is some rest. I’m working on a helluvah chest cold and I fear that once I rest and relax on Christmas day, after everything is over, it’s going to rip into me—even though I have to work at 3 am on the 26th. Isn’t that just peachy?